dragonqueen

Oops. That was quick, and mildly unexpected. It's been a while since I was lynched...

Pansy trailed on the tail end of the group, her wheeled suitcase trundling along behind her. Seeing the cameramen, she remebered how awful she always looked on film. She wasn't quite sure why she had been picked as a contestant, or exactly why she had applied. Well, except that college didn't pay for itself. When her suitcase came in just barely underweight, Pansy let out a sigh of relief. Though she'd showed far more restraint than, say, Jessica, there were still several things Pansy considered to be essentials that others might not. During lunch, Pansy sat off by herself and listened to the other participants converse. Several of them sounded quite shallow, namely Jessica. Pansy was not by nature an antagonistic person, but stupid, shallow, vacous girls like Jessica pushed her to her limits. She could tell already it was going to be a challenge working with Jessica. After lunch, the suitcase crisis ensued. Pansy raised her eyebrows in disbelief. That woman is simply impossible. Why did they have to let her on the show?

Upon entering the building, Pansy had to restrain herself from panicking and backing out. The startling variety of people was intimidating, as was the very idea of an interview. But, taking a deep breath, Pansy screws up her courage and takes a few timid steps. "Um...excuse me?" The desk attendant somehow catches Pansy's barely-there whisper and looks up. Sighing, he handed her a form and a pen and began his monotone spiel. Pansy nodded nervously and scurried away.

Pansy Johnston: Pretty much an average neighborhood girl. Not exceptionally pretty, but not hideous either. Fairly intelligent and very timid. Athletically inept. Well-meaning, but tends to bungle things.

This sounds like fun. I'm in, character coming soon.

Meredith looked hurt. That's as good as accusing me! "You honestly think I would do something like that? Sure, the girls and I don't always get along, but they're my dearest friends! I would never, ever sabotage them. What kind of a monster do you think I am?" Pausing to wipe a tear from her eye, Meredith turns to Tiffany. "Can you believe it, Tiff? Duke as good as accused me! Tiff, you know I would never do anything to hurt you or the other girls, right? You're like sisters to me!" Tiff nodded uncertainly. "Sue, on the other hand...She never saw eye to eye with any of us. Always aloof, like she was so superior to us. She'd think nothing of pulling a few dirty tricks like that. Duke, I totally can't believe you'd even think of suspecting me! I'm not like Sue!" Sniffing, Meredith whirled around and started down the hall. "I think I need some time to myself. You know, to reevaluate who my real friends are."

Meredith turned her attention to Duke, having had as much conversation with Tiff as was bearable. He'd been quiet during Meredith's discussion with the other girl, and she wanted to know why. "Duke, you've been awfully quiet. What are your thoughts on the matter? Do you think someone was working with Ricky?"

Meredith rolls her eyes. "I don't know, Tiff. It's gotta be one of the other nominees, and there aren't that many left. Just you, me, Sue, and Duke." She pauses as she realizes what she's said. There aren't enough male candidates to go around, and the idea of going to prom with a non-nominee is unthinkable. That's going to cause an issue "Do you have any ideas?" "I don't know..." Meredith tunes out Tiffany's mindless voice as she forms her own opinions. "Actually, Tiff, I think I might know who it might be. Dee was one of the victims, right, and she was going to prom with Duke, so it's not him. And frankly, Tiff, I can't see you as the attacker." That's for sure. She hasn't got any brain cells. "It's obviously Sue. She's not as dumb as she seems, and she didn't have any prospects lined up as far as I know. Maybe she wanted to take out some of the compeitition. Looks like she made a bit of a mistake in her calculations, seeing as Duke's the only guy left." Meredith notices Tiff staring at her with a bemused expression. "Did you follow that?" "Sort of. So you're saying Sue's the mean one?" "Yup. She always did think she was too good for us." (OOC: I'll leave Tiffany room to agree or disagree. Meanwhile, I vote Sue/Ayshela.)

This isn't the most recent line, but whatever. It was instant inspiration, especially since this is something I' ve sort of been meaning to write for a while. The only thing that bothers me is the ending, which was revised a million times. Hordes of emotion attacking the soul, Defenseless and hurt. Dying at my own hand. Fear, anger, hurt Eating way from the inside out. Inescapable hurt. Closing my eyes but it's still there, This hurt. Hordes of emotions raging within Hurt too much To be contained in one body A new line(one that I've sort of been messing around with) : Flamingoes cry pink tears.

It wasn't long before Meredith heard of Erica's death. The news affected her no more than a slight raise of the eyebrows. Assassinations were not an everyday occurence at high school. Meredith just hoped it wouldn't interfere with prom. Thinking of prom turned Meredith's mind to the ex-nominees. The latest was Ton. Rumor was there had been security tapes in his locker. Meredith had been sure those flyers were purely to divert suspicion, but if Ton had security tapes, maybe he really did know what was going on. In that case, he could know something about Ricky that everyone else didn't... Meredith didn't waste much time mulling over the curious events. Time was growing short, and she still didn't have a date for prom. With a fair amount of the original nominees out of the running, the pickings were slim. She realized she'd better find someone today, if she didn't want to go dateless. OOC: Vote Ricky/Cryptomancer.

Hello and welcome. Incidentally, do you play jazz, or listen, or...?

Checking her lipgloss in the mirror one last time, Meredith closed her purse and left the bathroom. She couldn't help thinking about what happened. Dee wasn't such a bad girl. I wonder if that was really necessary... All thoughts of Dee left Meredith's head when she stopped short outside the door. Just around the cornor two figures stood close together, one of them speaking quietly. Meredith's eyes narrowed. That was certainly suspicious behavior, after all these accidents. Careful to stay out of sight, she crept closer. To her dismay, she missed whatever the speaker, who she could now identify as Ton, was saying. She watched as he patted Duke on the back and left. Duke looked confused; it was likely it was Ton who was up to something. Following this line of thought, Meredith casually walked after Ton. Though she failed to find Ton again, Meredith spotted a paper like the one Duke had been holding tacked to the wall. After reading it, she took it down and headed for the cafeteria, where she immediatly sat down with Sue. "Sue, have you seen any of these signs around? I saw Ton putting them up. Can you believe he would accuse Ricky like that?" Leaning towards the other girl, Meredith showed Sue the paper. OOC: Vote Anton/Akallabeth.

Dragonqueen stops by to offer greetings. Grabbing Blade Mistress's hand, she shakes it and says "Welcome, welcome. I've no doubt you will find everyone here most accomadating. Though I must say, lurking's not nearly as much fun as being an active member."

Meredith shrugs. "I suppose that's possible. But maybe he already asked Jenny and she turned him down. If he was giving her a hard time, well...maybe Jenny's not above getting her hands dirty." She held her breath. While she'd been hinting at it, she hadn't outright accused Jenny until now. She was the obvious choice, but could she convince Dee? The conversation was interupted by the ringing of Dee's cellphone. Meredith waited with a hint of impatience while she answered.

"Sure," Meredith answers Dee. This could be an informative meal. Dee's not a stupid girl, and Meredith knows she also has an interest in the killings. As the two near the cafeteria, Meredith points out Ricky and Jenny. "Look, there they are. I've seen them together a lot in the past couple days. Do you know if they're going to prom together? Jenny moved pretty fast." OOC: vote for Jenny/Patrick Durham.

"A car crash...what a pity. Bobby always was reckless." Meredith murmurs to herself after hearing the news. Though she doesn't usually waste time listening to what Tiffany's saying, something catches her ear. "You don't think that someone's been, like, setting us up? All of these accidents have been happening to Prom nominees!" There it is again. That suspicion of a murderer in their midst. Unlikely for two boys, both nominees, to fatally crash their cars within a week of prom. Someone's taking an unhealthy interest in this prom. Meredith's eyes wander around the room. Almost everyone is discussing the killing excitedly, but she spots Jenny heading to the cafeteria. The other girl looks not at all distraught, or even concerned. In fact, she looks a bit preoccupied, and there's a small smile on her face. Now, what could have her smiling after the tragic death of one of her classmates? As an afterthought, Meredith thinks And what could she possibly be doing that she needs to spend so much time in the cafeteria? Meredith walks over to Dee, whom she noticed seemed to be looking for someone earlier. "Hey Dee, I saw Jenny heading to the cafeteria again. She seemed pretty happy. What do you think of that?

Meredith nods agreement to Ricky's words. That seems like something Bobby would do. They were never a particularly bright crowd. The conversation progresses for a few minutes before Meredith makes an excuse and leaves. If she had an inch less self-control, one of her observant peers might have been able to tell she was in a huff over being a third wheel. But, as it was, they couldn't. The girls' bathroom is the perfect refuge for Meredith to reapply her makeup and fix her hair as she thinks about where to go next. There wasn't much on her agenda; just finding a date for the prom. Meredtih's hands still as she thinks back to what Ricky said. He said it was Bobby's fault...everyone seems to think it wasn't an accident. Someone killed M.B. Brown. The locks click as Meredith turns the key. She doesn't start up the car though. Pulling out her cellphone she dials Bobby Jones' number. It's the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone. She can interrogate Bobby about Brown and find out who he's going to prom with. If Bobby's innocent, potential suspects are waiting in the wings. There's no way a killer is ruining her prom. "Hey Bobby. It's Meredith. I was calling because, well, M.B.'s death was so tragic, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it."

A slight frown creases Meredith's eyebrows as the broadcast ends. Looking around the room, she notices that some of the girls are crying, and even a few of the guys look shellshocked. A small, irritated sigh escapes her. Meredith hopes that everyone will get over it soon. It's not like he was some great loss to humanity anyway. Racist jerk. This had so better not ruin prom. Meredith dismisses the 'tragedy', as it is no tragedy to her. She looks over the room, wondering who to pick as a date. Preferably someone with more than two braincells. Other girls will be scrambling to find dresses, accessories, dates, but not Meredith. A small but genuine smile flits across her face as she thinks of the dress waiting in her closet. All that remains to complete her preparations is the perfect date, and there's no rush for that. Meredith is confident she will have her pick of candidates. The bell interupts her thoughts. Quickly Meredith rises gracefully to her feet and slings her bag over her shoulder. Kitten heels click on the tile as she walks down the hall. Confidence she might have, but Meredith's not stupid enough to place all her faith in the gentlemen nominees. She lingers after school, to make herself available, scout it out. Entering the cafeteria, Meredith quickly spots Jennifer sitting at an empty table. She makes her way over. "Hey, mind if I sit here?" The other girl's answer doesn't matter; Meredith is already making herself comfortable.

Some might feign surprise for the sake of modesty, but Meredith's above that. She gives an aloof smile and inspects her nails as if she couldn't care less, which happens to be a total lie. For years, ever since her transformation in junior high, Meredith's only goal in life has been to climb to the top of the social pyramid. Every minute of her life is devoted to working towards the day when her peers will worship and envy her as one, and she expects that to be rather soon. Sitting on the edge of her chair, Meredith listens intently to the conversation flying around the room. Compeition will be fierce, and every morsel of information she can use to manipulate and blackmail is vital.

This is too good to miss. I'm in. Meredith Sanford. Her friends - a very select group - call her Mer. Cool, collected and calculating, or something like that. Meredith isn't a queen bee and she may not be the most visible, but don't underestimate her. Unlike some of her peers, she is actually semi-intelligent. Meredith relies on her sources, pathetic wannabes, for information and gossip. She uses this information to help herself, and thrives in the treacherous world of the in crowd. Meredith's not outright cruel, but if you're in her way, you'll find out just how bad highschool can be.

I may be biting off more than I can chew here, but sign me up. Partners, anyone?

Looking after Marisa as she walked away, Debra struggles to keep her jaw from dropping. She had been certain, but she was only half right. As Marisa told it, she had taken the money but failed to carry through. This raised an interesting point. Was Marisa lying, or was she telling the truth? Debra muses over this as she leaves. But, as she reaches the door, her mind changes. While she can't determine the validity of Marisa's defence, she can investigate other leads. Hanging around the scene, the actress-turned-detective spots something that wasn't there yesterday. A sign decorates the entrance to the catwalks, reading : Catwalks off limit to ALL personell. I mean it! Debra raises her eyebrows in surprise, and immediatly begins to speculate. Debra finds the old gaffer fiddling around with some of the equipment. Approaching cautiously, she asks "Excuse me, but may I ask why you put up that sign by the catwalks? Has someone been up there doing something they shouldn't be? OOC: Still Marisa/Quincunx.

After hearing of Don's poisoning, Debra makes her excuses and retires to her dressing room. She closes the door and sinks into her chair. Instead of touching up her makeup, or smoothing a stray hair, Debra thinks. Two deaths are quite abnormal, and she is beginning to wonder if it mightn't be safer for her and her career to leave the show. Her mind as troubled as it can be, Debra picks up the phone, intending to call her agent. But to her dismay, the line is busy. She sits back in her chair, a frown dissapearing as soon as it forms. She was always told that frowning causes wrinkles. A smile on her face once more, Debra suddenly recalls that she had pegged Marisa as the saboteur. Was she working with Doug? The actress emerges from her dressing room with a mission. Heels clicking purposefully, Debra heads for Doug's locker. His journal has not yet been confiscated as evidence, and she flips it open with a smile of satsification. The smile dissapears as she eagerly scans the pages. There is no mention of Marisa in Doug's writing. Standing up, Debra carelessly tosses Doug's journal on the bench. After a moment, she decides on a plan of action. The normal course might be to dismiss Marisa as a suspect, but Debra is loathe to believe her innocent. She sets out to interrogate Marisa herself. OOC: Accusing Marisa Hawkins/Quincunx.

Debra is badly shaken by the explosion. Her hands pressed to her mouth in shock, all she can say is, "Oh my gosh, he's dead..." But at the moment everyone has very little use for a distraught actress, and no one tends to Debra's delicate nerves. The sight of the mangled corpse begins to make her nauseous, and she flees the scene. Fifteen minutes later, Debra emerges from the restroom, slightly more composed and recovered. Unable to grasp what is going on in all the confusion resulting from the accident, she flits from scene to scene, overhearing gossip. What surprises her is the names she hears floating around. Finding a well of information in Emmett, the young actress stops and listens. "Oh dear, murder? But do you really think someone would try to....sabotage the show?" Her questions go unnoticed as Emmett talks right over her, but something else occurs to her. "The ratings! Will this make ratings go down?" Debra notices Emmett has actually stopped talking, and realizes her voice was a little loud. "I mean...they won't show it, right? So we'll be okay?" The make-up artists regard her uncertainly, and Debra blushes slightly. She makes her exit, only to encounter that awful woman, lecturing her little boy. Marisa's back is to Debra, enabling the younger woman to pantomime her with perfect ease. At least, until Benjamin giggles at Debra's antics. Marisa whirls around to see what's amusing her son, only to see Debra walking innocently past them. What an absolutely horrid woman....I'll bet she'd do anything to promote Benjamin's career. OOC: Accuse Marisa/Quincunx

As she listens to Mr. Seelvergh's speech, an air of concern comes over Debra Thompson's pretty face. The young actress is relatively new to the business, and this sort of thing worries her. She makes a mental note to ask her agent about the matter, and meanwhile tries to be at her most appealing. "Oh dear...what happens if we don't do our best?" Debra whispers to no one in particular. She knows what happens, but maybe if she pretends she doesn't, it'll go away. But they said ratings were good...it's a warning, just a warning. They couldn't possibly drop you. Following this train of thought, Debra restores her confidence. Feeling optimistic, Debra thinks to reassure Mr. Seelvergh after the meeting. But to her disconcertment, Lizzie French is speaking to him. Swallowing her words, Debra turns and heads to makeup. While she feels no enmity for Lizzie, the younger actress imagines there is a little bit of compeitition between them for the spotlight. As she sits down at the makeup table, Debra turns her thoughts to the upcoming show. "Make sure you bring out my eyes," she tells the makeup artist, already reviewing lines in her head. Even with optimistic views, every detail is crucial.